Regrets
by Kittyswilltriumph
Summary: Frank has a serious addiction to cutting. What happens when Gerard finds out? Frerard, My Chemical Romance, TRIGGER WARNING. Don't read if you have an issue with self harm or slight Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

The words nearly dripped down the shower walls, merging in his mind with the accumulations of water from the shower head. The insults burnt nearly as much as the scalding water, as Frank turned the handle to the right slowly, trying to find just the right temperature for his next actions. His skin was already a light pink from the heat, and the steam was drifting up his nose lazily. Breathing deeply, the skinny male released the metal handle, and clenched his hands into fists, his nails leaving half-moon indents on his palms. That wouldn't hold him, not this time. Not after the last wave of abuse and pain. He could still hear the whispers from last period, and that had been several hours ago. He hadn't been able to act upon his urges until now, though.

Frank slowly leaned down, his joints complaining slightly at the lack of speed in his actions. His fingertips found the comforting texture of cheap plastic and wrapped around the slim handle, lifting it to the light. The five blades shone in a dull manner, the glint inviting like an old friend. He put it into the stream of water for several seconds, as if that would sterilize it. Ironic, he knew, considering the action he was planning. He let the thoughts take over his mind, the shadow thoughts that were always lurking in the corner but rarely allowed out of that secluded area. They swarmed over his general knowledge, the words becoming all he could focus on.

"Look at that faggot over there." "Fucking emo, he should go die, what's he waiting around for." "God damned useless asshole, I should have never given birth to you I should have fucking aborted you. I'd rather go to hell than know you." The words blocked out any other senses. His numb hand lowered the razor to his wrist, placing the cold metal against his skin and pressing every so lightly. "Burn in hell where you belong." "If you tried to kill yourself, I wouldn't do anything. It wouldn't matter." "Gay whore, go suck more dicks and get aids already."

His breathing shaky, Frank began whispering the phrases mixed in with other quotes to himself as he pressed harder with the razor and moved it sharply to the left, feeling the skin rip open neatly. Five neat threads of crimson bled onto his pale skin, the fresh openings stinging delightfully. Frank took a short break from his self-loathing to admire the bloody cut. He had done it well this time, it was an actual cut, not just a shallow slice as he had accomplished many times before. "Yes." He hissed, drawing out the last letter of the word. He repeated the action, slashing left and right, feeling the relief in the seeping blood, the calm in the bite of metal piercing flesh. One cut, two cuts, three cuts, four cuts. Five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen. The unlucky number, Frank always stopped cutting once he reached the number thirteen.

Looking down at his left wrist, he lightly stroked the wounds with his index finger, keeping the razor away from his skin. Every touch sent new flashes of pain and relief through his body. He was a success for once in his life. Quickly throwing some soap into his hair and lightly washing the rest of his body while avoiding his fresh cuts, the man rinsed off the suds and turned off the water, stepping back into reality with a slightly improved mood and good distraction from his lightly dripping wrist.

The regret hit him as he was wrapping his wrist in bandages, the cheap kind used for a kid's scraped knees, as his mother bought no other kinds. What would his friends say if they found out? Bob would sit there in his calm but concerned manner; Ray would spaz out a bit and try and help but avoid asking any sensitive questions; Mikey would be visibly worried, but Gerard… Gerard was another matter altogether. Gerard would take this personally. He would want to put a stop to it, no matter the cost. He'd blame himself for not noticing and stopping me in time. He didn't know it definitely wasn't the first time. He couldn't know about this. He just couldn't. Especially not right after he just got off alcohol. It could easily send him spiraling back to the bottle. Frank knew he couldn't do that to him, couldn't watch his best friend go back to that. He couldn't watch the guy he liked destroy himself again because of his mistakes. So Frank bandaged himself up well, then hurried to his room and threw on a long sleeved shirt and some arm warmers, just in case. Gerard didn't have to know. Nobody had to know.


	2. Chapter 2

He had never told his friends about the words, the constant stream of insults and abuse thrown at him at home and at school. They didn't need to hear. Their little group was holding him together, well mostly, anyways. The band was his safety net. They kept him from falling into the abyss. The cutting was his way of recovering from the daily attacks, and it kept others ok so nobody ended up getting hurt but him. He saw no reason to stop.

"Shit, practice is in five minutes, I'm going to be late." Frank muttered to himself, as he hurriedly grabbed his guitar and hopped on his bike, pedaling quickly towards Gerard's house.

The band was all there ten minutes later when Frank arrived at the building. Everyone was all just kind of sitting around and chatting, Mikey with Ray and Gerard with Bob. All eight eyes looked straight at Frank as he walked into the room. "Frank, took you god damn long enough, now we can actually practice." Mikey said, slightly grouchy. He probably had lots of other homework to do, as usual. He always got pissed when things didn't go exactly as planned, especially when it meant he would be extra stressed later.

"Sorry, lost track of time." Frank said quietly. He realized a bit too late how depressed that had sounded and quickly cleared his throat. "Let's get to work, guys. Got to get our shit together before our school's talent show." There, that sounded a bit more like his regular voice. Ray glanced at him with concern, but seemed comforted by the change of tone. Bob hadn't been paying attention, it seemed, as he was fiddling around with his drum set, tinkering with the snare drum. Mikey trudged over and hit the cymbal closest to Bob's ear and watched as the ginger jumped, nearly knocking over the cymbal and smacking his head off of the snare drum. The group laughed collectively and all the tension was easily forgotten.

The rehearsal went well, and was quite productive. Several sentences of lyrics were written and corrected, a few lines of guitar runs and bass licks were composed, and Bob's drumming showed large jumps of improvement. Around seven at night, Mikey declared he had homework he needed to do and retreated to his room. Bob left soon after, leaving Ray, Gerard, and Frank in the basement. Ray was draped over the loveseat and Gerard and Frank were sprawled out on the large couch just chatting and watching some shitty reality tv show and criticizing it. Ray eventually had to go home and left, leaving Frank and Gerard alone.

Frank looked at Gerard out of the corner of his eye and watched him giggle and make snarky remarks at the bimbos on the screen. Smiling slightly, Frank shifted so that his hand was subtly placed on the middle of the couch in between him and Gerard. He felt nervous doing even that small action; at one time he wanted Gerard to notice but he was scared at the same time that it wouldn't go well. Gerard didn't react. He either didn't notice, or didn't want it. Frank left his hand there anyways; he was comfortable and didn't want to make it obvious. During the commercial for a hair straightener, Frank felt a warm object move towards his still fingers. Glancing over, he saw Gerard's hand right next to his, chewed nails and all.

Frank's hear began racing. Was this intentional? Gerard wasn't looking over. Maybe it was an accident. Frank moved his hand away from Gerard a little and waited. Gerard's crept slightly closer, this time breaking the touch barrier and making his pinkie finger press lightly against Frank's. This was definitely purposeful. Frank shifted his hand over the taller boy's, resting it. Gerard turned his head to look at Frank and Frank met his gaze.

"So…" Gerard mumbled, "It's kinda cold down here." A staring contest had begun.

"Yeah." Frank replied, holding Gerard's gaze. His fingers wrapped around Gerard's hand, moving so they intertwined with the black haired boy's fingers. Gerard pulled Frank close, and Frank moved along the couch until he was sitting right in front of the other boy, sitting sideways on the couch. The sexual tension could be cut with a knife. Their faces were inching closer without either boy noticing until Gerard closed the gap between their lips.

The kiss was soft and warm and just the right amount of moist. Frank had never kissed a guy before and Gerard seemed to be a master when it came to kissing. His lips were slightly chewed, but it was anything but unpleasant. If anything, it made him even more fucking adorable. The kiss lasted for what seemed like hours but was probably only around a minute long. When it was over, both of them slowly pulled away, both kind of breathing heavily. Frank could feel the heat seeping onto his cheeks and Gerard's were the same shade of pink.

"I didn't know you liked guys." Frank giggled, looking at the black haired boy. Gerard bit his lip and smiled. He was too fucking cute.

"Oh, I have for a while. Just never acted on it until now." Gerard smiled, then grew a bit more serious. 'I really only seriously like you, though, Frank." He bit his lip nervously and waited for the reaction he hoped was positive.

Frank smiled, extremely relieved and excited. "I really like you too, Gerard. Do you want to go on a date sometime soon?" He asked.

"Why not right now? Want to go on a night swim in my pool? My parents won't be home for hours and Mikey doesn't care. As long as your parents don't mind, it's no problem. I know how much you like swimming." Frank's excitement suddenly turned to anxiety.


	3. Chapter 3

"Um how about we don't…" Frank muttered, his body language betraying his attempted discretion of his anxiety. He couldn't let Gerard see his cuts or even the bandages. Gerard would flip out. That would ruin this perfect moment.

Gerard frowned. Pulling the smaller boy closer, he whined teasingly, "Why notttt? Don't you like me, Frankie?" Behind his charades, the black-haired male did seem seriously concerned.

Frank tried to shrug it off. "No, I'm just not in the mood to swim." It was a shitty excuse, but was all he could think of.

Gerard could see right through it. Dropping the stupid voice, he questioned softly, "Frank, what's wrong?" He went to lay his hand on frank's arm comfortingly, but Frank instantly jerked it away, more by instinct than thought.

Frank's face paled as Gerard firmly grasped Frank's hand with his left hand and slowly began pulling up his right shirt sleeve, revealing the bandages coating his arm's bottom. Several of the smaller cuts hadn't been completely covered, and the thin red lines stood out on his pale skin. All up and down his arm, up until the elbow, raised, discolored scars jutted up from his fragile flesh. The scars were layered and criss-crossed at points. The scars were almost worse than the fresh cuts.

Gerard hadn't moved or said anything. Terrified, Frank felt his eyes grow moist. Shit shit shit I'm so stupid how could I have let him find out? The line kept running through Frank's head. He hadn't been careful enough. Now he was caught. Swallowing hard to keep the threatening tears at bay, Frank asked, quietly and apprehensively, "Gerard?"

The raven-haired boy looked up quickly. His face wore a look of absolute shock and a hint of betrayal. Frank could tell Gerard was hurt by this new revelation. Frank looked down, ashamed and upset. He had probably just lost his first love. A hand-Gerard's- moved Frank's head so it was facing his direction, but Frank couldn't see. His vision was blurred by the salty water running down his face. He was expecting a slap or hit of some sort and shrank away, trying to hide or avoid a bit of the pain. After years of verbal abuse that had sometime become physical, it was second nature to expect physical retribution, especially when he deserved it. He sure as hell deserved it now.

Rather than the sting of a slap, Frank was surprised by the feeling of soft, moist lips against his. Blinking quickly to clear the tears from his eyes, he saw Gerard was kissing him, and closed his eyes again. Gerard reached up to Frank's face and wiped it clear of the wet lines and dots, tenderly stroking Frank's cheek with his thumb. After they both pulled away, Gerard whispered, holding the other boy close so that Frank was forced to sit straddling the bigger boy's lap, "Frankie, I would never hurt you. I will never hit you or insult you. I don't know what makes you do this, but I swear I'll help you stop hurting yourself. I can't bear to see you hurting yourself, and I want you to tell me if I ever caused any of this."

Gerard seemed very upset, his normally stoic expression quite concerned, possibly even loving. Frank couldn't believe that Gerard was even still there. Any sane person would have left him as soon as they found out, wouldn't they? As if Gerard could read his mind, he added, "I sure as hell won't leave you, either."

With that, Frank buried his face into the other boy's chest, relieved to a point. His love wasn't going to leave him. He cared about him. He wanted to help. Frank took in a shaky, but relieved, breath and said, "Gee, you never caused this. Don't blame yourself, please, you're not at fault at all. I love you, and I honestly have for a long time."

Gerard held Frank closer. "I love you too, Frank. We'll get through this together." Frank blushed and smiled, feeling hopeful about the future for once.


End file.
